Susan Oloier, Author

Like many people, I have some pet peeves. Women walking out of a public restroom without so much as a glance toward the sinks, people who finish my sentences for me as if they have a crystal ball in hand, and one that happens all the time in my tiny southwestern Colorado town: Failure to use a turn signal. It happened today. It happens almost every day. They see me sitting there, waiting to pull out—waiting for them to pull out—yet they won’t pay me the simple courtesy of moving their hand an inch or two to flick that turn signal. It’s a small gesture, really. One that carries with it a sense of compassion, caring, and basic knowledge of the rules of the road. Not doing it is infused with so much non-verbal communication: I’m more important than you, you are non-existent, and most prominently—F--- you! And, above all, not putting on the turn signal is lazy! It’s not like bench pressing one’s weight equivalent and certainly not a Sisyphean task. To me, failure to use the turn signal is like slamming a door in a stranger’s face rather than holding it open. And while there are a couple of people who I may find deserving of such a thing, most people are not.